


A Golden Day

by riventhorn



Series: Only Yesterday [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riventhorn/pseuds/riventhorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>A sweep of blue silk lay on the bed, bright against the white coverlet. Arthur reached out to caress it before he could stop himself.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Golden Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vesperdivum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesperdivum/gifts).



> Disclaimer: no copyright infringement intended; no profit is being made from this.
> 
> This is the third story in the "Only Yesterday" series, which is set in the 1920s.
> 
> Happy Birthday, vesperdivum!

A loud blast sounded from the ship’s horn. Arthur gripped the railing, scanning the teeming crowd gathered below on the dock. He had thought that perhaps…but there was no sign of his father. He had written to Uther over a month ago, as soon as he and Merlin had finalized their plans.

 _My friend_ —for he could never say “lover,” not to his father— _my friend has an offer from a magazine in New York to join their staff as a photographer. I’ve decided to go with him—jobs are so scarce here, but I’ve a chance of finding a steady position in New York. Our ship leaves on the nineteenth of next month._

He hadn’t been able to write any more, pride stiffening his words. But he had sent a telegram last week with the details of when their ship would be embarking. Surely his intent had been obvious.

Merlin and his mother had just said good-bye a few minutes ago, and she had clutched Merlin so tightly to her, tears running down her cheeks. And Merlin had smoothed his hand over her hair, face buried in her shoulder.

But Uther had not come.

Arthur swallowed, blinking against the hot sting of tears, staring at the dull grey of his coat.

A touch on his elbow. “Darling,” Merlin whispered, and Arthur managed a smile, although it shook at the edges.

Merlin put his hand on the railing by Arthur’s and draped his coat over it. Arthur edged closer, slipping his hand under the concealing fabric, and twined his fingers tightly with Merlin’s.

*

Merlin’s friend Will met them when they arrived, giving Merlin a hug and guardedly shaking Arthur’s hand.

“I’ve found you a place in the Village—swell set of rooms, not going to put you out too much, neither,” he said, hustling them along the street. “And it’s near all the best joints, Merlin. None of ‘em will look at you sideways if you want to bring your doll along.”

Arthur bristled. “I’ll thank you not to call me that.”

“Got yourself a Mrs. Grundy here, have you?” Will jeered. “Can’t take a little razzing, huh?”

“Enough, Will,” Merlin said. “Fuck, I’ve been seasick for days—all I want is to lie down somewhere that doesn’t move.”

Will huffed an impatient sigh. “You’re goofy over him, aren’t you? Christ, Merlin.”

Arthur gave him a cold glare.

*

They settled in slowly, unused to the muggy heat of summer that put the city into a swelter. Merlin loved his job, though, and Arthur managed to find a position in the accounting department of a shipping firm. Steady, nine-to-five, fairly good pay. He bought three new ties—all a dark navy—to go with his suits and starched collars.

The first weekend they were in New York, Will took them to the Flower Pot, and it seemed as though a hundred parties were held in the apartments around them every Saturday night. But Arthur often pleaded tiredness after a long week, telling Merlin to go have a good time, that he would be fine alone. He would listen to the wireless, enjoy a glass of wine, and go to bed early.

One Friday he came home to find Merlin had already returned. He was stretched on the bed, smiling at Arthur. Next to him, bright against the white coverlet, lay a sweep of blue silk. Arthur reached out to caress it before he could stop himself. Delicate beadwork covered the skirt of the dress, glimmering enticingly in the lamplight.

“You should take it back,” he said, letting his hand fall.

Merlin’s smile faded, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

“I won’t be wearing it.” He turned his back on it, resolute, and went to stand by the window.

“But you know I’d love you in it,” Merlin cajoled, coming to stand behind him and putting an arm around Arthur’s chest. “You would look so gorgeous in it, darling.”

“No.” He moved away from Merlin, sitting down in a chair to take off his shoes.

Merlin pursued him. “You haven’t worn any of your pretty things since we got here, Arthur. But you can—the party I was at the other night, there must have been at least ten blokes all dressed-up and none of them looked half as lovely as you do. I’d be so proud to have you come with me, wearing that.” He petted Arthur’s hair back from his forehead. “Why won’t you?”

“Because I don’t want to get arrested!” He jerked away. “I don’t want to have my name in the papers!”

“But that never stopped you before,” Merlin protested, sounding hurt at Arthur’s angry tone. “I always admired you for—”

“For not being able to hold down a job? For getting insults thrown at us every time we walked down the street?”

“None of that _matters_! Not if you’re happy.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” he snapped, and Merlin flinched, mouth drawing tight. “I have a good job now. We’ll be able to move into a nicer place soon, and take time off to go traveling.”

“But—”

“I know you want to travel, Merlin. Do you think I haven’t seen your maps with all the places you want to go underlined and circled? You’re always the one giving things up for me. So let me do this for you.”

“Fine.” Merlin’s tone was cold and angry. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it.”

Arthur wanted to apologize, to say that Merlin was the one thing that had made the past few years bearable, that _of course_ he missed wearing the silks and lace that Merlin had scrimped and saved to buy him, that he hated the straight, solid lines of the drab suits he had to wear every day. But instead he just watched as Merlin slowly folded the blue silk dress and wrapped it untidily in its paper again.

*

With autumn came a relief from the heat, and a shock of cold in the air early in the morning. One Saturday, Arthur woke to find that Merlin had slipped out, leaving a note next to the breadbox saying _Back by eleven_.

Arthur was up to his elbows in soapy water, taking care of the dishes from dinner the night before, when a loud clatter on the stairs announced Merlin’s return. He barely had time to dry his hands before Merlin was there, flinging his arms round Arthur’s neck, kissing him, and then tugging him towards the door.

“Come on, Arthur. _Come on._ You won’t believe it—I can’t wait to show you!”

Laughing, Arthur allowed Merlin to pull him down the stairs. Merlin became so giddy over the littlest things. Probably it was a dog playing in the street or Mrs. Patecki across the way in one of her ridiculous dressing gowns or…

He stumbled to a halt, staring. Merlin had dashed ahead and was now standing next to a shining black flivver, hand resting proudly on the hood.

“Is—is that _ours_?” Arthur asked, hardly daring to believe it.

“It is. Isn’t she dandy?” Merlin grabbed him and led him to the automobile. “It was a great price, and I thought we deserved it, love. We’d been saving for months, and I know we’d talked about moving into a bigger flat, but I just couldn’t _resist_. You don’t think it’s too extravagant, do you?” He peered at Arthur anxiously.

“It’s wonderful.” Arthur laughed. “A smashing surprise—I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” He flung an arm around Merlin’s neck and pulled him close, ruffling his hair.

Merlin squawked and fought ineffectually against him for a few moments before surrendering to the inevitable. And back in their rooms, he pushed Merlin up against the wall and kissed him thoroughly, until Merlin was flushed and pushing eagerly against him, anxious for more.

*

That very afternoon they went out for a drive, leaving the city behind them. Soon they were rattling over dirt roads, trees covered in bright red and yellow leaves swooping past the open windows. Arthur rested his head against the seat and took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his face.

Merlin took a winding route, turning down little country lanes that ended in farmhouse yards. Then they would turn around, engine spluttering and upsetting the chickens. Down one such lane, they came upon a vacant meadow, thickly covered with elm and maple. Merlin pulled to the side of the road and turned off the engine.

“Let’s get out and stretch our legs,” he suggested.

They wandered into the meadow, and Arthur noticed that Merlin had a package under one arm. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Something for you,” Merlin replied and drew him further into the wooded thicket. At last he sat down in a sunny spot and patted the ground next to him. Arthur lowered himself down, looking curiously at the box as Merlin undid the string with nimble fingers. Then he took off the lid and pushed it towards Arthur.

Inside was a silk scarf of deep blue and a cunning cloche hat covered in gold sequins.

“Merlin, I told you,” Arthur began, his throat tight with desire and unhappiness.

But Merlin stopped him, laying his fingers against his lips. “No one can see us here.” He lifted the scarf and arranged it around Arthur’s neck, tying it just so. Then he settled the cap on Arthur’s head, fixing it so that his hair peeked out the sides. “There,” he breathed. “Oh, it looks so lovely. _You’re_ so lovely.” And he straddled Arthur’s lap, kissing him hungrily.

Arthur held him tightly, feeling beautiful and relaxed and comfortable for the first time in months and months. Merlin nuzzled his neck, getting the silk wet with his mouth, sucking and nipping at Arthur’s skin. He moaned, frantically ripping Merlin’s shirt out of his belt so he could rub his hands on Merlin’s skin and find his nipples and brush his thumbs across them.

Merlin started to push him down, but Arthur resisted. “My hat,” he gasped. “It will get spoilt.” And Merlin chuckled and kissed him, licking at his lips with his tongue.

“You’re so sweet for me, aren’t you, my darling?” he murmured, undoing the buttons on Arthur’s shirt and pushing it off. He moved around to cradle Arthur against his chest, brushing the ends of the scarf teasingly over Arthur’s skin.

“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur sighed, fretful, closing his eyes. “Please. _Please_.”

Merlin relented at last, drawing Arthur’s cock out of his trousers and stroking it. He rocked his own arousal against Arthur’s back, breath turning harsh and fast. “Have to,” he muttered and his hands left Arthur for a moment to open his own trousers, and then his cock brushed against Arthur’s skin, all sticky and hot. Arthur moaned again, twisting his hands into the silk and jerking his hips pleadingly.

“There, there we go,” Merlin whispered, once again taking Arthur in hand. “Are you going to come for me, love?”

“Yes, _yes_ , Merlin. I am, I—” He climaxed with a groan, cock jumping in Merlin’s grip, and a few moments later he felt Merlin’s come smearing against his skin.

Merlin laid his shirt on the ground so that Arthur could rest his head on it, and they stretched out, warm and sated. Arthur looped half the scarf around Merlin’s neck, pulling him close for a kiss.

“You don’t have to give this up, Arthur,” Merlin murmured, petting the silk. “It can be for us. Just for us.”

“And we’ll go traveling in our car—all over the country,” Arthur promised. He ran his fingers through Merlin’s hair. “Did you know I love you?”

Merlin flushed, cuddling closer and kissing him again. After a few moments, he started singing softly:

“You’re the cream in my coffee; you’re the salt in my stew. You will always be my necessity; I’d be lost without you.”

Arthur laughed and hummed, “You’re the starch in my collar; you’re the lace in my shoe. You will always be my necessity; I’d be lost without you.”

~Fin~

 

Notes:

A “Mrs. Grundy” was an uptight, priggish person

The Flower Pot was a restaurant in Greenwich Village in New York in the 1920s that catered to a gay clientele. It was located on the corner of Christopher and Gay Streets and described as a “gay and impromptu place where excitement reigned from nine in the evening until the wee hours of the morning.” During the 1920s, the Village was an established gay neighborhood, with numerous restaurants, clubs, and tearooms that welcomed gay men and lesbians. Most had arrangements with the police to keep from being closed. A number of raids in 1924 and 1925 dampened gay nightlife for a time, although more establishments quickly opened. (George Chauncey, _Gay New York_ )

“Flivver” was a slang word for a Ford Model T

The song, “You’re the Cream in my Coffee” came out in 1928 and can be listened to [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qk_wVO7NBMQ). So I imagine this story takes place in late 1928 or early 1929, just before the stock market crash.

The title, “A Golden Day,” has obvious references in the story and is also a nod to the 1926 book _The Golden Day_ by Lewis Mumford, an American historian and philosopher.


End file.
